"
"Then, it's nothing to do with me?"
"Nothing," I said. "Why should it have?"
"Oh, that's all right. One never knows what people think or what people
fancy." She took me by the arm, "Let's go for a walk," she said.
I looked about me at darkness and rain.
"That's all right," she laughed. "We can go along the lane and into the
Old Woking Road. Do you mind? Of course you don't. My head. It doesn't
matter. One never meets anybody."
"How do you know?"
"I've wandered like this before.... Of course. Did you think"--she
nodded her head back at her home--"that's all?"
"No, by Jove!" I cried; "it's manifest it isn't."
She took my arm and turned me down the lane. "Night's my time," she
said by my side. "There's a touch of the werewolf in my blood. One never
knows in these old families.... I've wondered often.... Here we are,
anyhow, alone in the world. Just darkness and cold and a sky of clouds
and wet. And we--together.
"I like the wet on my face and hair, don't you? When do you sail?"
I told her to-morrow.
"Oh, well, there's no to-morrow now.
Pages:
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554